


Apollo, Apollo

by NathanieloftheSky



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:32:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12774003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NathanieloftheSky/pseuds/NathanieloftheSky
Summary: Enjolras is sick of being called Apollo--to the point of wanting to lash out at anyone who dares call him by that dreadful nickname.Finally, he isn't called Apollo, but that still seems to be the name on everyone's lips at the Musain.





	Apollo, Apollo

"Come back soon," The woman at the counter waved at him with a kind smile as the smeared glass doors clattered behind him. Enjolras tasted metal in the back of his throat. Scribbled on his cup in black marker, "Apollo."

He had half a mind to throughout the distasteful cup, bitter coffee and all, but he needed to wake up. He woke up at four in the morning, feeling the fatigue finally catching up to him. Naps were out of the question. He had only ten minutes to get to his class. Immediately afterwards, he would be going over the notes for tonight's meeting with Combeferre for the fourth time today, finalizing everything. After that, he would go to his next class and then have only twenty minutes to travel across the city to the Cafe Musain for a two hour meeting. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he'd probably get out of there for two more hours.

Enjolras adjusted his jacket and buried himself in his scarf. His feet tapped rhythmically against the pavement to the beating of his heart. He passed the large piles of leaves that mimicked a child's drawing, minus the blues and greens. The wind picked up and he buried himself again in his large red coat. The pale faux fur tickled his cheeks, hood doing nothing to stay on his head.

"Apollo! Hey!" A kid slid up to him-- someone from his later class.

"Please stop calling me that." Enjolras grimaced.

"Yo, sorry. It's just the hair and the whole, I don't know, you're pretty--"

"Charismatic. Yes, I have been told." He stared at his breath hanging in the air, trailing behind him as he hurried along.

"No, I've just meant you are pretty hot, but okay?" The person sounded rather offended, turning the blood in Enjolras' veins.

"Unless you want to make a difference in society, I don't think you should talk to me again." Enjolras glared and took another sip of his coffee. He walked on, without the nameless person beside him. He felt an odd satisfaction throwing away his coffee in the trashcan outside of his building, but the coffee didn't make a difference. Instead he spent the entire class editing and revising his note over and over again, focusing more on changing the way people behave in society than what his teacher thought on how two magnetic carts of different masses are attracted to each other. He barely looked up as a hand tapped his shoulder.

"Are you busy?" a familiar voice mused.

Enjolras looked up and tried to focus on the tall man standing beside him. "Combeferre?"

"Last time I checked. Are you okay?" Combeferre narrowed his dark eyes.

"You look like you were hit by a bus." a second, higher voice added.

"Courfeyrac, that's not appropriate." Combeferre shook his head as the smaller man popped into view, swirling around in the chair in front of Enjolras, grin wider than ever.

"Since when have I been appropriate? I mean I literally grabbed your ass while you were giving a speech at the last meeting."

"Please stop reminding me." Combeferre sighed.

"And what about the time I--"

"Now really isn't the time." Enjolras sighed and tried to pile his things together, only to drop his colored pens all over the floor. Courfeyrac frowned, scrunching up his face and getting off of his chair to help pick them up.

"Are you sure you are alright?" Combeferre placed his hand on Enjolras' shoulder.

"I've just been up too long, that's all."

"If you say so." Combeferre helped gather the rest of the papers together, snatching the pens from Courfeyrac who found that sticking them all over his head and trying to balance the rest was a much more enjoyable pastime. He smiled and laughed brightly at the loss of the pens.

The door screeched open and someone stomped up the stairs--a young woman who held out a bright red notebook.

"You left this um, you left this last week and I forgot to ah, to give this back." She stumbled over her words.

"Thank you," Enjolras gave a friendly smile, though his friends might have noticed how forced it felt.

"You're welcome, Apollo!" She squeaked and ran out the room, nearly tripping over himself.

Enjolras lost any sense of happiness and collapsed into his arms on the desk, sighing as heavily and dramatically as he could.

"You have a fan," Combeferre raised his eyebrows and looked back at Enjolras. "I suppose this is what has been getting you down?"

"Ugh, I just don't get it," Enjolras moaned, "Is all they see is my looks? Everyone called me 'Apollo' now and it's as if they just, ughhhh."

"Les Amis respect you." Courfeyrac smiled.

"You are our fearless leader, after all." Combeferre smiled, seeming to be the embodiment of calm, though, that could be interpreted as the calm before the storm.

"Our leader in red!" Courfeyrac added, nudging Combeferre with his elbow.

"But how much of that respect is actual respect and not just a chance to get close to me?"

"I think you are overthinking this." Combeferre sat down next to him.

"No, I am not. And they all seem to hit on me when they call me Apollo. I am going to punch the next person who calls me that fucking name."

"I wouldn't doubt it. You can be quite..."

"Terrifying when you are angry," Courfeyrac added.

"I can?"

"Enjolras, you act surprised." Combeferre shook his head and smiled. 

Enjolras checked his phone and cursed. "I'm gonna be late," he said.

"I guess we'll see you later at the meeting." Combeferre waved him off as Enjolras slipped through the doors and down the halls, racing his way towards the next building over. 

He didn't punch the next person who called him Apollo, or the one after that. He held his sharp tongue and hoped for the best. Maybe Combeferre was right and he was just losing his mind and overthinking people's idiotic comments. Then again, all of those little instances begin to build up and boil inside him.

"Apollo!" a rough voice yelled in the back.

Enjolras kept walking, feeling his whole body tense up, not from the cold.

"Apollo! Apollo!" The voice called again, more intensely.

At the fourth "Apollo," Enjolras pivoted on his heels, nearly running into the man behind him. The man clutched his flyers, a bit taken aback. Enjolras felt his entire argument fall with the autumn leaves.

"Is heaven missing an angel? Because...um... I...uh...cat." He thrust a flyer into Enjolras' hands, mouth gaping open and close until finally shutting tightly.

"Cat?" Enjolras peered down at the flyer. A beautiful, bright orange cat stared back at him with eyes as golden as the sun. "Your cat's name is Apollo?"

"Um, yeah," the guy's awkward laugh let his stomach flutter, "The little shit ran away from me a few days ago."

A few days ago seemed like an exaggeration to Enjolras--the man had bags under his eyes that were deeper than the Seine. His hair was a mess and he certainly wasn't dressed for the weather, smelling a bit like the kind of alcohol that never washes out of clothes properly. Enjolras felt a wave of pity, but the weight of time reminded him of his responsibilities.

"I'll keep an eye out for, um, for Apollo." He said, trying to fight with himself as to whether or not he would run to class or skip and find the golden-eyed kitten.

"Thanks, it would help a lot." The man laughed and sighed, the sunlight and red leaves dancing around him.

Enjolras turned around and walked a little ways before calling back, "I hope you find your cat," and then began to ran, noticing that only two minutes remained before his class. He felt his face grow warm, yet couldn't pick out the reason why.

The class ran on in the back of his mind, though he couldn't focus on anything in particular anyways--he was like that since he woke up. He looked back down at the kitten in the poster, mouthing "Apollo" to himself, over and over again. He couldn't help but picture the tall man in his mind, the green beanie slightly falling off of his head, the eyes that somehow knew him yet would not give a clue how or why, the grin that made his heart beat a little too quickly... Before he knew it, he was back out onto the streets, heading down the city streets to his destination. The air grew colder and colder around him. The streets reeked of sewage and despite the trees being adorned with fairy lights, he couldn't stand the city. His phone buzzed rapidly, so he slunk to the side of the walk and pulled it out, only to find that Courfeyrac was getting people hyped about the meeting.

A soft mew came from by his feet as he felt something warm and small press up against his shin, leaning against him with all of its tiny little weight.

Looked up at him was the pumpkin-orange kitten, unmistakable from the photo in the flyer. He pulled it out of his pocket just to double check. "Are you Apollo?" The kitten mewed again and he smiled as he checked the kitten's collar, "You and me both. Come on." Enjolras put the flyer back into his pocket and gently picked the kitten up, cradling it in his arms. The Musain was only a few paces away--it would be warmer there anyways.

Warm light poured out onto the street where the Musain sat, welcoming anyone into the cafe as if it were the only place left in the world that issued friendly hugs and the sweetest smiles--both guaranteed to be received for those who dared to enter into the back room. That was just what Enjolras expected as he headed up the broken, wooden stairs, and into the upper room, feeling all eyes turn to him.

"Woah, where'd you get the cat?!" Courfeyrac was the first to jump up and pick up the little kitten in his hands. He made little kissy faces at the kitten and smiled brighter than Enjolras thought he could.

"I found it on the street. I need to contact the owner. They gave me this flyer earlier. I figured it would be easier to pick up here."

"You should probably get on that soon, because the cat might distract everyone from you." Bahorel laughed as they began to compare Apollo to Feuilly's hair--a purrfect match, to say the least.

"Should we have a cat in here? Someone could have deadly allergies to cats and fur. What if I am?" Joly gasped, "What if I am allergic? I haven't been around them in years? I could get sick! I--"

"It'll be alright," Bossuet smiled, petting the kitten as it was passed around. Apollo seemed to adore all the attention it received, pushing it's little head into the palms and arms of everyone that surrounded it.

Enjolras took out his phone and carefully typed in the number from the crumbled flyer. He sent a quick text, telling the stranger that his cat was currently being loved at the Musain. He happened to miss the response as he set his phone down with Combeferre and stood up. Those who were standing sat down or moved to the back and all attention turned from the cat to their leader. His voice carried about the room, catching the hearts of those who heard him, as he rambled on about cleaning up the city and the various political opinions the group stood for. Some new people poured in, late, but by any means intending to stay. Enjolras payed no mind to them.

The first hour went by and Enjolras switched out with Courfeyrac, who kept the people active and alive. He told a few jokes here and there, but kept the point clear. Enjolras took a few sips of water and thought about how people underestimated his ability to lead. No, he wasn't as strategic or charismatic as him and Combeferre, and could be a little blunt, but his passion remained unmatched. He was a joy to watch and both his smile and laugh were infectious. Drinks were passed around and the air became fairly light.

Combeferre told hold of the next portion, getting down to the legalistic of things and organizing questions, complaints, and the little details into easy and agreeable answers. He had confidence that people believed in, and certainly, he knew what he was doing. Despite the cat insisting on being pet by Enjolras, he switched with Combeferre, being the last thing on people's minds as they left the room. He answered remaining questions, greeting people as they approached and bidding goodbye as they waved from afar. He felt alive, breathlessly taking in the euphoria of the room as it slowly dwindled away.

"Apollo!" a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

"Uh-oh," Courfeyrac mumbled as the the man from earlier approached Enjolras, but instead of Enjolras losing his temper or freezing up, he merely handed the cat over to the man.

"There he is, safe and sound. I was nervous your cat wouldn't want to return to you after all the attention my friends gave him." Enjolras smiled brightly as the cat licked the man's face.

"I saw! I didn't want to take him away from you all too soon. He likes attention." The man chuckled warmly.

"What do you mean?" Enjolras asked.

"I was here since the beginning. I am usually at the bar downstairs--the owner is an old friend of mine, so I can usually stay past closing. I didn't even see you walk by, so when I got the text, I figured it was coming from...er, well here. You are very inspiring."

"Am I missing something? Did you call Enjolras Apollo and he didn't flip out?" Courfeyrac looked back and forth, his mouth hanging open.

"Um, no, the cat is named Apollo...Don't tell me," the man tilted his head, "Do people call you Apollo? Is that why you responded to Apollo so intensely?"

Enjolras felt his face grow warm, "Yes."

"Courfeyrac! I need your help!" Combeferre called from across the room. Courfeyrac gave them both a startled look before quickly petting Apollo and slipping away, mouth still hanging open.

"I can see it."

"You can see what?" Enjolras felt his teeth clench.

"Why they call you Apollo."

"And why is that?"

"Well, it's hard to pin down exactly." The man furrowed his brows a bit before nodding to himself. "You are like the embodiment of music itself. Your voice sings even when you speak, your eyes light up with such passion, and you look as though you are untouchable. Don't get me wrong, it's hard to describe, but you are music in it's prime--the kind of sounds put together that evoke such raw emotion. You are the song that can make one person cry for days and another person smile like they never smiled before. You are the kind of melody that pumps people up and get them riled. I just, I can't explain it properly."

Enjolras stayed quiet, unsure if to take it as a compliment or something else. The man awkwardly smiled, the cat purring away in his arms.

"And you came up with this all in a total of two hours?"

"No, I actually come up here a lot." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I couldn't, I can't...I just have trouble talking to you. I say stupid stuff all the time and I say too much and, well, it's hard to even carry this conversation."

"You seem to have no trouble talking to me now?"

"I could barely say hi! Instead I spouted half of a pick-up line and slammed a flyer in your face instead of saying, 'hey! I lost my cat! Can you keep an eye out for him?' But noooo, I just...ugh." He covered his face with his heads and then looked back at Enjolras.

And he laughed. Enjolras just laughed.

He never felt so much joy in so long--it felt refreshing. The feeling of relief washed over him.

"Did I do something wrong?" the man was taken aback.

"No, no, it's just, I'm Enjolras." He held out his hand and continued to laugh.

The man took it and smiled, "Grantaire. Friends call me R."

"It's getting late, we need to close up." Combeferre walked by, touching Enjolras' arm for a moment before disappearing from the room with Courfeyrac and the rest of the remaining members.

"Well, I guess I'll be heading out." Grantaire smiled, glancing down at his kitten for a moment. Apollo mewed and rubbed its head against his chest, struggling to reach his face. He stared for a minute and then turned away.

Before he reached the door frame, Enjolras called back, "Grantaire?"

"Yeah?" he turned a little bit too quickly.

"I found heaven's angel, but if you'd like to stay on Earth a bit longer, I'd love to get dinner with you sometime."

Enjolras watched Grantaire's face turn beat-red. He thrust out his cat and hid behind it. "Cat," was all he could say. 

Enjolras laughed and stepped up to him. Out of either brashness or boldness, Enjolras stood on his platforms and kissed Grantaire's cheek. Grantaire hid himself behind Apollo once again, this time going back to holding his kitten properly, his face still the color or roses and the wine that stained his shirt.

"You're too smooth for me," Grantaire sighed as his face lit up.

"Obviously not." Enjolras turned off the lights and closed the door behind him, hearing it lock.

"No, I think you are." Grantaire shook his head as he moved the cat into one arm and used his free hand to lift Enjolras' chin up. His stubble tickled Enjolras as they kissed--two strangers and a cat, who took the opportunity to passionately rub up against their necks and underneath their chins. Enjolras giggled as they kissed again, this time a little less rough and sweeter.

Someone at the bottom of the stairs cleared their throat. A second person gasped and threw themself into a pit of laughter. Enjolras found very little will to part from Grantaire, but Grantaire pulled away first, clearly embarrassed. They looked down at the rectangle of light that housed Combeferre and Courfeyrac like a painting in an old art gallery.

"Who would have thought?" Combeferre said in what appeared to be a state of shock. Courfeyrac clung to Combeferre's arm, hardly able to stand or contain himself.

Nevertheless, it was a chance Enjolras felt willing to take, though he knew how it ended before. Still, hand and hand with Grantaire, from the top of the stairs, the world looked a little bit brighter--a little bit more hopeful.

 


End file.
